I glance out the window before I can stop myself. He's not going to be there, I remind myself. He will never again be standing outside my window trying to get my attention. But maybe he will... the voice in my head whispers to me, telling me he might regret the fight, might apologize. I know he won't though. He's too proud. It's why we fought in the first place.

I turn my gaze back to my homework and sigh at the mountain of it. Winter break and the teachers still never relent. My mind drifts again from the algebra I'm supposed to be doing and thinks back to last winter break.

That was the holiday I'll always remember. The teachers went easy and my parents took my brother and me skiing. It was all perfect. Why couldn't this year be like that?

A shout from downstairs alerts me to the fact that my mom and dad are again arguing over what TV shows Micheal should be allowed to watch and as I listen the argument invariably turns to my mom as it always does and my father ranting about why should she care now? She's always at work. Why does she just think she can start parenting now?

Micheal is a year younger than my sixteen years and we, generally, get along great. My dad and I have always been close and he's always been there for me. But my mom? I don't get her. I can hear Micheal entering the argument to calm them both down and not too much later the shouting has stopped.

Micheal enters my room and flops onto my bed.

"They were at it again."

"I heard."

We sit in silence for awhile until Micheal stands.

"I'm going to go take a nap, okay? Tell Dad I'll be down for supper later."

"Okay." I say. He leaves and I return to my algebra, fighting the urge to again look out my window.

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